Well, to be sure, her response was mildly more accepting than the Queen's from before. Not utterly charmed, and indeed, a touch amused - Elves, it seemed, were universally less taken by any sort of compliment - but not outright scathing at least. He'd have to refine his arsenal if he wanted to keep up; in retrospect, what he'd said could even be mistaken for an approval of her military side, if she had such a mind. Still, no time for that sort of discussion, for she seemed to be describing the problems of her race around these parts... in the form of a Green Dragon of apparently substantial size.

That... that threw him, he'd admit. He was here to tackle the plans of mice and Dark Elves, not slay a damn Dragon. He hadn't signed up for that, much less armed for it!

Except, he acknowledged with a touch of hand to holster of blade, he was perhaps the most well-armed individual here when it came to slaying that sort of magical beast. Not to suggest he was particularly well-educated, but he was a priest whose deity just loved knowledge, or at least worldly knowledge above and beyond the layfolk, and the very fact that he and his sect knew the value of valdium blades against magically-charged entities was why he had been sent down here to begin with. And at least, it seemed, the party would not be forced to figure out precisely why the Dragon was so violent: the Wood Elves had captured somebody who might know the truth. It'd be an easy time of things if they did, to be sure.

And then everything else fell away, and Settionne came to a grinding halt as he laid eyes on perhaps the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. Bruised, dishevelled, bloody at certain points, apparently crying, and even left with her chest uncovered for some inexplicable reason, but nonetheless more genuinely attractive to Settionne than any Elf he'd seen so far. He imagined that this was assisted by the shining golden locks atop her head, surely only matched by that particular shade of light brown the Vrettonians were so fond of... not that he'd know what exactly that shade was. He wasn't noble enough to have had the privilege.

But alas, the time to help came and went: the other Vrettonian, Alice if he recalled, and the old hermit Ursaren moved to assist her before Sett could so much as twitch. And what a pity, because that left himself and the Skayleigh with the hard task of berating the Elves for their behaviour, the way you might expect a priest to act at such a sight, and the Skayleigh seemed the sort to avoid any work he could. Oh, [i]goody.[/i] At least now he could pass off his short stasis as his being appalled at how they'd treated the unfortunate woman, who by now was sobbing to the two helping her out. And with that snapping him out of it, he turned his head toward Verya, expression mingling a degree of disgust with his prior shock, and his pose shifting as if to exude a damning mannerism.

'Is that how you treat [i]all[/i] of your prisoners, ma'am?' he began, putting into his voice a clear tone of disappointment and just the slightest hint of a shout. 'You mentioned before how most men consider you a fey demon, and yet why be surprised when they evidently expect to be beaten and... and [i]exposed[/i] by you and yours!' He gestured toward the woman repeatedly as he talked, becoming more animated as time passed. 'What would the Gods think if they saw this woman, this... knight? Yes, this knight of [i]honour,[/i] so crudely treated? I can only imagine how upset... uh, let's see, let's see,' he muttered to himself, grinding through the list of deities he knew before continuing to rant, 'Imagine how Falethorwen would [i]weep[/i] at such a sight, at her [i]very own people[/i] acting in so [i]cruel[/i] a manner! For shame,' he finished, punctuating his speech by making the symbol of the Evergod with his hands. At this point, he was sure he'd probably be berated himself for taking such an immediate and rash opposition to the prisoner's treatment- there was any chance that she'd fought her way into that state, and for all he knew, she was in fact a demon in disguise- but if worst came to worst, he could at least try to excuse himself by citing her evident damage and distress, and clearly human physique at least from this distance, and would you care to explain, Verya of the Wood Elves, what else should he think when such a sight was depicted to him, a holy man of comparatively gentle nature? And so on. The Skayleigh probably couldn't be so bold and have any such chance to get away with it, at least.

[@POOHEAD189][@Fetzen][@The Fated Fallen][@Banana][@Darkraven]